As Fire, that sleeping under Ashes lyes,
Fresh-blown, and rouz'd, does up in Blazes rise,
So flam'd the Virgin's Breast———
New kindled by her Lover's sparkling Eyes.
For Chance, that Day, had with uncommon Grace
Adorn'd the lovely Youth, and through his Face
Display'd an Air so pleasing, as might charm
A Goddess, and a Vestal's Bosom warm.
Her ravish'd Eyes survey him o'er and o'er,
As some gay Wonder never seen before;
Transported to the Skies she seems to be,
And thinks she gazes on a Deity.
But when he spoke, and prest her trembling Hand,
And did with tender Words her Aid demand,
With Vows, and Oaths to make her soon his Bride,
She wept a Flood of Tears, and thus reply'd:
I see my Error, yet to Ruin move,
Nor owe my Fate to Ignorance, but Love:
Your Life I'll guard, and only crave of you
To swear once more———and to your Oath be true.
He swears by Hecate he would all fulfil,
And by her Grandfather's prophetick Skill,
By ev'ry thing that doubting Love cou'd press,
His present Danger, and desir'd Success.
She credits him, and kindly does produce
Enchanted Herbs, and teaches him their use;
Their mystick Names, and Virtues he admires,
And with his Booty joyfully retires.
The Dragon's Teeth transform'd to Men.
Impatient for the Wonders of the Day,
Aurora drives the loyt'ring Stars away.
Now Mars's Mount the pressing People fill,
The Crowd below, the Nobles crown the Hill;
